Batshark
by McGeesJabberwock
Summary: A tragic incident in the past forces Kenny the Shark to become Batshark and battle criminals on the streets of Gotton City. Then he comes face to face with the insidious Warden... Fanmake of Batman.
1. Chapter 1

Yeah, I'm back with another Cartoon X-Over parody. We all love those, don't we, kiddies? Anyway, this is a parody of _Batman_, no real incarnation in particular, with characters from _Kenny the Shark_, _Superjail_ and _Open Season_. Enjoy!

* * *

The streets are no place for a child.

Of course, that statement goes without saying. In a city like Gotton especially. Any toddler would know not to brave the labyrinthine roads or to walk under the leering skyscrapers, yet here was this little dog girl, all by herself. No mommy to hold her hand, no daddy to reassure her everything was okay.

She shouldn't be out here alone. That's what the other dog lady said. There was another dog lady and though she wore revealing clothes and smeared makeup, she looked enough like mommy that the dog-child listened to her. The other dog lady didn't bring her home though. Just as well, mommy always said never drive home with strangers.

But who could she turn to? Mommy was gone – as if taken by whatever lurked under the bed – and she stood between two rows of distorted buildings- her light green raincoat the sole source of colour in this monochrome city.

She did know the way home though. Yes, she had to. She had told her teacher that when she grew up she wanted to be a world-famous explorer, and if she wanted that career, she had to know where to find things. If she couldn't find her way home, what good was she at finding hidden treasures or secret temples?

She had to be smart. She had to be brave.

Zipping up her raincoat so it became as much a shield as her bedcovers, she racked her mind for clues. That's what Sherlock Holmes did; he collected clues to solve a mystery. Now what did her flat look like? What did she see there when she looked out of the window? There was always a white car parked outside the corner. It didn't belong to mommy or daddy, yet it was always parked there. And there was usually a human in a black coat walking around.

Find the white car. Find the human. Find the flat. Problem solved.

Undeterred by the screeching of police sirens filling the air, the dog child licked her lips and wagged her tail, and then darted down the pavement. Though she ran fast, she made sure to keep her eyes peeled. White car, black coat. White car, black coat. The finale played in her head; after many trials and tribulations, she would find her way home, her mother would hug her while talking about how proud she was to have such a smart daughter...

And look! The man in the black coat! All she had to do was follow him and find the white car! Then...

'Hey, what's this?'

It wasn't the man in the black coat. A different man in a different black coat. The man she saw outside her window was plump; he didn't have a face as elongated as this man, and he certainly didn't walk about with anyone else.

'It's a little kid,' said the other figure, a bear wearing a similar coat. 'Cute little critter.'

The child wanted to speak. She wanted to be brave. All she could manage to do was make squeaking sounds.

'Oh, look here, Stu,' the man said to the bear. 'From how she was darting about earlier, I thought she was a runner. Turns out she's just a gibberer.' He shook his head as he kneeled down. 'Much less fun.'

She continued to gibber, as much as her brain demanded her legs to move. As much as she wished to be overcome with some heroic fury that would defeat these two once and for all. But nothing. She had become hollow. Her insides had been hacked out of her, leaving her empty. A doll. A toy.

'Still...' The bear flexed his claws. 'Maybe we should let her go home. Us animals get enough crap as is.'

'Oh shut up.' The man slapped the bear right in the stomach, and the bear skulked back in the shadows like...like a dog. The child finally gained the strength to move her muscles, and began to look around the city for any more shadows. Friendly shadows.

'Oh, finally decided to move, eh?'

There was a shadow. Right there, between the bins. A moving shadow. A large shadow.

'So, you gonna run away or what?'

The child looked up to the man again, seeing him hold a knife that burned in the harsh yellow of the streetlamps. She froze again.

'You know, it's no use running away.' He brought the knife closer to her snout, even running a finger down her lips. 'In fact, I bet I even know your mother.'

A quick look askance, and the shadow had reappeared. It skulked down another street before disappearing into the ground.

'Hey, what are you looking at?'

'Oh!' Stu came forward again. 'It's not that...'

'Of course it's bloody well not!' the man barked, making Stu retreat once more. 'I bet even this little bitch doesn't believe that.'

The child almost spoke up, but then a third figure joined the group. The shadow.

A figure seemingly made up of darkness itself. The child had once drawn a picture of how she imagined the very night would look as if it were a person; this third figure was like a distorted version of that drawing. It rose behind the man, opening up its wings to ensnare him.

At last, the child ran.

She zoomed away to where she first saw the shadow – bins to hide behind. Indeed, she dove for cover behind the rusted metal cans, and peeked at the chaos that had begun.

The shadow had rows and rows of fangs.

The man lay at the shadow's feet – or whatever it walked on. Was he...no, he was twitching. The shadow then turned to Stu, who became just as still as the child had been. The shadow grew, its wings stretching and its fangs multiplying.

All she could do was run away again.

That thing...it wasn't like those two other men. It was the thing in the closet. It was the thing under the bed. It was the very thing defeated in all the fables and fairy tales...but there were no handsome princes. No shining knights on gleaming white steeds.

The shadow had come towards her.

It had stepped into the lamplight, so the child not only stopped out of gear, but because of her own arbitrary curiosity. A black cloak was draped over its shoulders, but it was mostly naked; a big grey fish. A shark.

Sharks live in the water and gobble you up.

Backing away slowly, the child's throat went completely dry, and her body quivered as she moved. That man and that bear...they belonged in this world. And while the child had seen sharks, and had even heard of them walking on land, this thing seemed to have exited a dream into the physical world.

It moved slowly, and though it walked on its tail, it still stood proud and tall, but it managed to reach her.

It bent down and placed a fin on her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

_You really screwed up, didn't you?_

_You _are_ pathetic._

_Oh sure, you made those criminals shit themselves. But they'd be scared of a falling feather, wouldn't they? You made them turn themselves in, but that means nothing. In Gotton, the cops are as corrupt as the criminals and the prisons may as well be made out of cardboard. You did hear that a helicopter just came in onto the yard and picked up some criminals, and nobody did anything to stop them?_

_And why Gotton? A city crawling with crime? You should have worked your way up. You're either very brave or very stupid._

_Oh, who are we kidding? It's the latter? If you were really brave, why do you spend your days languishing in this little beachside cave? There's nothing here. No crime-stopping computers, no weaponry..._

_No Kat._

_Yes, why don't you show her what you've become? She already has a low opinion of you, doesn't she? Her dear pet shark..._

_Look at you. Look at you in that little homemade costume. What did you make it from? A sail. Hah. You look ridiculous. You're a clown._

_And what are you going to do when night falls? Just jump out and say boo to the mean men? You can't keep doing that forever..._

Sharks don't sleep, but that doesn't mean they don't have nightmares.

Kenny lay in a cave near the beach – the 'bat cave' as he called it, still wearing that get-up. That's what the bat told him to wear. People were afraid of bats, and people were afraid of sharks, so put them both together and...

Yes, Kenny had spoke to a bat. Kenny was swimming about in the ocean, and the first creature to speak to him for years was a bat. The bat asked questions. The bat wanted to know why Kenny looked so sad.

Kenny said everything.

The bat had ideas.

The bat was a sign.

The bat was an omen.

The next few weeks were spent with the bat, talking over techniques, methods and what could be done. The bat had no real fingers and his legs were tiny, but he did know some fighting moves, ones that he had used on his own prey, no less.

It was the bat's suggestion that Kenny go to Gotton City, where animals needed someone to look up to. Kenny was but a pet, lower than the anthropomorphic creatures due to his lack of opposable thumbs and his inability to control some of his in...

No, he could control them, couldn't he? He wasn't a killer. He could be able to live in a house and raise a family and live like a human. If only he could had hands, or had proper vocal chords, or didn't have sharp teeth.

Oh, how he had wished those things when he was with Kat. Kat had adopted him not as a pet, but as a friend. A big brother. He was about twenty in shark years when Kat had taken him under her arm, but remembered salivating and leaping about like a small child upon being given the opportunity to learn more about the human world. There he learned about the wonders of television and its many brain-numbing fruit, and of the nightlife, and of computers and musical instruments and...

He couldn't go back there.

* * *

As the alarm buzzed away, Elliot sat bolt upright in his bed, having recalled an especially vivid nightmare. He knew full well that people in the real world didn't sit upright after a nightmare, but he, at times, believed life should mirror the movies more. Television shows, in spite of all their diversions and disbelief, did have more order to them than reality usually did.

Despite the volume of the clock from the moment it reached that certain hour to when Elliot slammed his hoof on it, Giselle still chose to sleep. Bless. She had tried so hard to find employment to support their future children, but alas, what a chore that was for a deer. Even more so than those she willingly undertook.

Elliot made his way to the sink, washing his face and making sure his fur looked as neat as possible. He had no work today and the big appointment he had wasn't until the evening, but he should keep a smart appearance throughout the day. He was an elk, a deer. King of the forest, the noblest of animals.

Those antlers need a good polish.

As he wiped his antlers - those which made him stand tall amongst his peers - he felt a little tap on his shoulder. He almost fell to the floor, until he saw it was his blushing bride, once again equipped with super speed. Maybe it was the way she liked to walk on all fours sometimes, like the _other _type of deer.

'You always jump when I do that,' Giselle chuckled, placing a hoof over her mouth. 'I thought you'd have gotten used to it by now.'

Elliot racked his brains for something to say, something to justify this little flaw of his, but only said in response, 'Yeah,' punctuating it with scratching his neck.

'So,' said Giselle, a suggestive smile crossing her face. 'Is my noble leader ready for his meeting tonight?'

'Sure!' said Elliot, attempting to replicate his wife's expression, 'Been practicing my speech all week! Got some great ideas for how to make the humans...'

Elliot hung his head, disturbing his neatly-combed fur slightly with his hoof. That was his role. The leader for the group he created himself, the AAR. Association of Animal Recognition. Anthropomorphic animals lived in houses, could walk and talk and perform tasks just as well as people. Yet they were less likely to get jobs. They were more likely to end up on the streets. They were more likely to be criminals. Elliot had a serviceable flat and a loving wife, but what of the others.

Giselle choosing not to further the conversation had her wash and soon the two deer were downstairs, munching away on cornflakes to the beat of the radio.

Then came the news. Child was attacked by two thugs. One man, one animal. Thing is, the criminals turned themselves in. Claimed a demon told them to do it.

'Not much of a demon if he's _preventing_ crime,' Elliot said, taking another spoonful of cornflakes.

'Elliot.'

'What?' said Elliot. He would have said something more, but he couldn't.

'I really think you should be listening to this,' said Giselle, before sipping her coffee.

'I am.'

'It's sad, isn't it? Not only do animals have to take up crime, they have to take up bloody vigilantism too.'

'How do you know it's an animal?'

Placing down her coffee mug, Giselle arched an eyebrow in her husband's direction. 'You think he's actually a monster?'

'He could...you know...be a human in a really scary costume.'

'It's been described as having a large mouth with rows of jagged teeth. I don't think a human could pull that off.'

'I guess you're right.'

After breakfast was over, Elliot retired to his flat's sole bedroom, with its clunky computer and looming wardrobe. Time to practice. He had to be majestic, and that took work. And there was even time to indulge in that other hobby of his.

He stood in front of an imaginary mirror, reading out his lines and pretending to answer questions. In his mind's eye, the scene even tended to shift from the community centre to the White House, the United Nations, the top of the world.

Then he went on the computer.

His internet was extremely slow, but he still made sure to use it. Advertising his group on Facebook, tapping out his speeches, and of course, studying. Research, he called it.

A comic convention had ended last week. A website had a whole bunch of pictures. Comics were for kids, as Elliot had constantly been reminded in the past. So were dressing up in stupid costumes and toys and cartoons. Yet here were these grown men and woman, paying more money than Elliot had ever seen for some breakable action figure.

Fascinating.

He knew that what he did – trying to give animals the confidence to demand better treatment – demanded a mature mindset and outlook on life. Everything did, really. Yet he couldn't help but notice some people just didn't want to grow up. He had entertained the notion that there was some magic maturity fairy that sprinkled dust on you every birthday, but just missed a few people. How did maturity happen anyway? At what age did it occur?

He had lost track of the time thinking about those things, so, yet again, his wife seemed to appear out of nowhere. 'Oh, not again. You even have a notebook this time.'

'What?' Elliot shrugged. 'It's interesting to think of why they're this way.'

Rolling her eyes, Giselle replied, 'Look at them. Mostly humans. Privileged little twats.'

'Yeah,' said Elliot, 'I noted that a while ago. Some people just don't grow up because their parents won't let them. Parents have a need to keep coddling their child...'

'What I'm saying is,' said Giselle, twirling her hoof, 'that if you're going to try and make better lives for the animals, you shouldn't spend your time researching humans that don't need help.'

'Of course,' said Elliot, closing the window. 'Of course.' Once again, nothing better to say.

* * *

Bert had met a lot of strange people while working this job. Sure, working at the convenience store as a kid did ensure he saw sickos, druggies and alcoholics on a daily basis, but this line of work really took the cake – that cliché seemed strangely appropriate here, for some reason. Last guy he conducted business with had this tic in his eye, and muttered to himself about aliens or something of that nature.

And _this_ guy...this guy looking to buy the run-down old amusement park. He wanted the rusted ferris wheel. He wanted the filthy booths with rigged games and no prizes. And look at his face. Two big scars on opposite sides of his mouth that made him look like he was permanently smiling. Poor guy. How'd he get them? They were underneath a pair of bright yellow John Lennon shades, which gleamed even on an overcast day like this. The smart navy suit the figure wore did nothing but make those facial flaws stand out more.

Still, had to be polite. Don't mention the scars. 'Have you had a chance to inspect the property and decide if it's what you're looking for?'

The figure scratched his back – despite his formal wear, he resembled the typical bum. 'Well, it's garish, ugly, and derelicts have used it for a toilet. The rides are dilapidated to the point of being lethal, and could easily maim or kill innocent little children.'

'Oh, so you don't like it?'

The figure turned to Bert. His facial scars stretched and his spectacles seemed to glow all the more. A wide grin crossed his face, revealing a gap in his teeth that made him resemble the Mad Magazine guy. He (the figure, not the Mad Magazine guy) clutched his gloved hands in delight and began pirouetting on the spot.

'Don't like it? My good man, I am simply crazy for it! It is, as you people say, a fixer-upper, and what a fixer-upper for someone of my creativity!'

Yup, takes the cake. The birthday cake. The birthday cake laced with various hallucinogens.

'You...you really want to buy it?'

'Well, is that not what I just said? I have taken the time to look around this place, and what an inspiration it has been! I mean, is life not an amusement park? Is the world not a labyrinth where choosing the right path can lead to wonder, but the wrong path can lead to unspeakable horrors? Ooh, I can tell which path you picked!'

Then the bugger went and wrapped his arm around Bert as if Bert was his lover. Bert was even sure the figure would add a kiss on top of all that too, but he didn't. Instead, he began that stupid little dance again.

'So...you're not too worried about the price.'

'Oh, money is no object, not when I'm willing to bring such a wonderful gift to the world!'

'Um, yeah.' Bert began to scratch the back of his neck. 'Well, I'm sure you'll like this place. Some of the rides are still pretty sturdy...'

'Oh, indeed they are, but that doesn't mean I won't be giving them my own personal touch. I'm skilled at this type of thing...let me show you something I created.'

From his pocket he pulled out something that couldn't possibly have fitted in his pocket. A large, spherical music box, which opened to reveal a twirling ballerina, complete with soppy twinkle tune.

The ballerina sprayed Bert right in the face.

Bert began to laugh.

'Oh, goody! I can tell you're just as excited about the deal as I am! Well then, you'll be happy to know that I had my associate persuade your partner to sign the necessary documents an hour ago.'

Bert continued to laugh.

'The property's mine already.'

Bert continued to laugh, with every 'Ha' feeling like a dagger in the stomach, a stab in the brain. He clutched his gut and fell over.

The figure adjusted his spectacles and took a look down at the ever-snickering Bert. 'Oh geez. You seem a little too happy. I'll have my associate escort you to somewhere quieter. You know, maybe the world isn't a funfair. Maybe it's a prison. And if that's so...'

Each laugh became more and more painful.

'Then I must be the Warden.'


	3. Chapter 3

Night was beginning to fall.

Back when he was a pet, Kenny had spent countless nights lying on the sofa, waiting for the sun to come up. Sharks had to keep moving, yet there was something soothing about staying in one place. At first the nights drug on for so long, but as the years passed, the nights went by quicker.

Now the days seemed to pass by quicker. Fancy that.

It was time to spring onto the streets of Gotton and find criminals to beat up and terrify. The bat said that although a lot of robberies occurred in the day – people weren't home, after all – night was the best place to strike when it came to Gotton. The criminals there believed themselves monsters, bogiemen or whatever, and it was Kenny's job to prove them wrong. Monsters who scare bad people can't be bad themselves after all.

But they weren't all bad _people_, now, were they? A lot of them were animals like him. More intelligent animals. Bipedal animals with opposable thumbs. There were barely any of them in Tiburon, yet they were literally littering the streets of Gotton. On one of his little visits there, Kenny remembered seeing a crocodile in an alleyway. It wasn't dead, but it might as well have been – lying there in a puddle of unidentifiable liquid, wearing an anachronistic trenchcoat, its mouth devoid of any teeth. Kenny knew that he had nothing to worry about when it came to losing teeth – they just grew back. But human's teeth didn't grow back, and the same was true for the more anthropomorphic animals.

He also saw something resembling a cross between a human and an animal, lurking behind a tower of empty cardboard boxes. She – it looked like a girl – looked to be chewing on a dead rat, hunched over. Kenny attempted to near her – seeing a girl this vulnerable reminded him of Kat – but it ran away into the darkness. A chill had ran up Kenny's spine.

Still, there was work to be done. Criminals to find. Murky corners to discover.

Despite the fact he now had 'wings' of black sail, he could not fly, but ran to the city stretching his cape out, like a little boy pretending to be a bird. When he saw the skyscrapers grow, he closed his cloak over him, quickly darting into the shadows. He had been practicing agility and stealth for years – you need that when living in the sea.

Criminals were just like seals. Stupid little blobs that deserved to di...

Oh fuck.

Still hiding in a dark corner, Kenny began to shudder, and couldn't tell whether it was because he thought of murder, or he thought of a naughty word.

It took him a long time to reach Gotton City, and when he did, night had completely fallen. The sky had become an oil slick, and the blinking streetlamps did little to bring illumination.

Perfect.

Kenny was hunched behind a dumpster, not minding the stench an iota, and no-one could see him. No-one would notice him.

A few seconds after surveying the empty streets, Kenny leapt onto a ladder and climbed up onto a building. He swore he heard some grumbling, but he was certain whoever made that grumbling wouldn't think a shark was going up their building. Kenny, wrapping his body up in his cape, stood by the side, surveying the area. From a certain height, the city looked beautiful – the lights looked like large fairies and the dark corners seemed to hide secrets.

Kenny dove.

He continued to skulk the streets, slipping past the hobos and the slouched people, making sure they caught neither hide nor hair of him. A while of stealth later, and he came across a poster, poorly blu-tacked to the window of a closed shop. An organisation for talking animals to find support for each other?

Having walked, slid and sneaked through these streets so many times, finding where that organisation was having their meeting was rather straight-forward. A community centre, less rancid than most of the other buildings. When Kenny had reached the building, he dove under a window and looked up. There at the head of a table was an bipedal elk with impressive antlers, who waved his arms as if he were conducting an orchestra. He was delivering a speech of some kind, and there were other animals there, animals hanging onto his every word. Stroking his chin, Kenny wondered what if he could communicate with humans and human-like animals. Marty the dog, Marty the normal dog, could hold a good conversation, and Kat was smart enough to understand shark, but not other humans. Not anthropomorphic animals.

A few minutes after Kenny had arrived, the meeting ended, with the animals – the gorilla, the horse with hands – going towards their cars. The elk, on the other hand, moved towards the window.

Kenny ducked.

He did not run away, but chose to remain in the bushes, watching the animals mutter to themselves and to each other.

'Hey!'

The elk again.

'It's you, isn't it?'

Kenny could sense the elk approaching, yet he didn't move.

'You're the...thing. That beat up all those criminals?'

Feeling his heart hammer against his stomach, Kenny nonetheless stayed still, not even knowing why he was doing so.

'I want to talk! Can you talk?'

Kenny said nothing.

'Hello?'

All of a sudden, Kenny forgot everything about stealth and subtlety, and just plain darted out of the bushes, right in plain sight.

* * *

'Giselle!'

Elliot's wife had told him to come home quietly, as she did have a job interview the next morning, yet Elliot couldn't help but cry as he threw open the door to his flat. Another cry of Giselle's name, and she appeared in her bathrobe, rubbing her head as if awaking from a hangover.

'What? Elliot, you know I have something important in the morning...'

'I saw him!'

'Saw who?'

'That...that...big black monster thing that was catching all the criminals! Only he wasn't a monster...he...'

'Elliot,' said Giselle, rubbing her temples.

'He was a shark!'

Giselle's eyes widened. 'You really saw a shark?' Both of them had heard of sharks walking on land, but neither had seen that happen. They were even sure there may have been a law against such a thing.

'Yes,' said Elliot, looking back and forth, 'and it proves that theory one of my group members had.'

'Theory?'

'Oh, don't you remember?'

'Remember what?'

Elliot slapped his palm against his forehead. 'Don't you...oh, I don't think you would. There was a story I heard about a girl and her pet shark...'

* * *

It was almost as if Kenny was in the room with her.

Though she should have been doing her weekend homework – getting it out of the way on Saturday so she had Sunday free – Kat had turned her attention towards the plush shark that sat on the shelf above her. Won him at a carnival game. A plush shark. A plush _tiger_ shark.

No, a plush generic shark. At one time, inaccuracies in shark-related media and merchandise would have riled Kat, the shark expert, but there were more important things in life to worry about. Kat snickered to herself as she remembered the classmate who had actually bothered reading Mary Shelley's_ Frankenstein_, and was always complaining when he saw the monster having a square head and neck bolts.

It was good to laugh. Kat remembered for the first month after the incident, she pretty much forced herself to be miserable; it was wrong to laugh when you lost someone you loved, after all. Her mom, her dad, her shark...but she should just get on with her life. Mom would have wanted her to. Dad would have wanted her to. Kenny would have wanted her to.

As soon as she turned away from that pseudo-shark, she got down to the maths and finished it in record time. Quick look through. Yep. All correct. Whoops, forgot a digit there. Rub out, start again. There. Regular mathematician. Regular marine biologist too. She wore many hats.

Now that that was over and done with, she had the whole afternoon to herself. A little reward for all her hard work. What to do though? Lounging about watching TV was always an option...actually,it wasn't really, since her new Dad seemed to spend all his time in front of it. She did make some more friends in this neighbourhood, including an anthropomorphic moose called Larry. Strange; in Tiburon there were plenty of pets and 'dumber' animals to be found but barely any with their own houses that could speak human languages.

So Larry it was then. She rung him up on her mobile and they had a chat. A chat which seemed to eat up hours, and was spent on nothing of importance. Movies, music, that sort of stuff.

A knock on the door.

Kat, by instinct, walked on over to the landing, phone still in hand, watching as New-Dad opened the door.

A policeman.

'Oh, hello officer, what can I do for you?'

'I just want to know if you know anything about the bat-shark?'

'Um,' said Kat into her phone, 'I'll call you back.'

'Bat...shark?' New-Dad raised an eyebrow. 'We aren't genetic engineering or anything...'

'No, no. Your...daughter,' said the cop as he spied Kat. 'Didn't you once have a pet shark?'

'Kenny?'

'Ah, cute name. Anyway, you've probably heard of that thing that's been going about Gotton City , beating up criminals. And Gotton's not too far from Tiburon.'

Kat began to shudder, her eyes looking like they were about to explode, yet she continued to speak. 'Yeah.'

'We were unsure what he was at first, but then some animal rights nut came in and told us it was conclusively a shark. He put two and two together, and thinks the shark is...your shark.'

Kat's body became stiff.

_'I told you we shouldn't have brought Kenny. Now look what's happened.'_

Though she thought the scene would become less substantial with time, it was as clear and firm as it ever was. It was like Kat had travelled back in time, and was experiencing it all over again.

They had gone for a night out. Kat, baby Carl, Mum, Dad. And Kenny was there too, due to Kat's persuasion. They had all gone to see a play, and something that vaguely resembled a seal had come up on stage.

_'Oh, calm down, dear. You know he can't help himself.'_

The family had been told not to disrupt the play any further, and had been sent out onto the rain-splattered streets. Dad would have to call the taxi earlier than he expected. They even suggested that Kenny might have to walk home.

_'Hold it!'_

A dog came out of nowhere. Not a four-legged dog like Marty, though there was a bit of a resemblance to Kenny's friend. A tall, gangly dog, standing on two legs, draped in a black raincoat. He pulled out a gun, and all of the Cassidys put their hands up. Even Kenny froze in fear.

_'Ah, you have a shark, do ya? Ooh, isn't he scary? I bet he's going to eat me!'_

Kat wanted to say something, but her throat was completely dry.

_'Here, here, sir. Take my wallet, just don't harm...'_

_'Oh, listen to Mr. Considerate there. Don't hurt my family! Don't kill my big floppy fish! Ooh!'_

_'Look...'_

**BLAM**

_'Peter!'_

**BLAM**

_'Mom!'_

Mom and Dad fell to the floor, right in front of Kat and baby Carl in her arms, the latter crying tears of confusion. Right in front of Kenny.

Kenny leapt.

The carefree, happy shark that had spent years under the care of the Cassidys vanished, and in his place was a salivating beast, who had pinned down the murderer.

_'Oh, little shark's grown some balls AGH!'_

Kenny dug his teeth into the dog, but it wasn't a fatal bite. No, the shark still needed him alive, to throw against the wall. To throw dustbins at. To strangle with a bit of rope.

Kat understood Kenny. Kat knew shark. She knew full well that he beloved pet just said, 'I'm going to kill you.'

Mom was still dead. Dad was still dead. Carl was still crying.

_'Kenny!'_

He stop. He froze.

He looked at the quivering dog using a dustbin lid as a shield. He looked at the corpses of his beloved owners.

He ran.

'Officer, after that incident, I never saw Kenny again. He's never come back here.'

Kenny always did seem to live in a little fantasy world of his own. Kat chalked it up to the naiveté that comes with being a literal fish out of water, but some of his delusions were quite farfetched. Trying to calm the guilt of the living beings he ate? Kat was never as good a psychiatrist as her late mother.

'He hasn't been seen round this neighbourhood, has he?' asked New Dad.

'We have received no reports, no,' said the cop, 'but we may have to conduct a search around this house just to make sure you aren't hoarding him.'

Taking a step backwards, Kat asked, 'Wh-what are you going to do with him?'

'Don't worry, we'll make sure...'

Just then, a metal claw burst out from the window and carried the cop away.

'Well, there's something you don't see everyday.'


	4. Chapter 4

'Look what we have here!'

Marv had had better days. First we was knocked unconscious by some robot, then found himself face to face with Gary 'The Hook' Wilkins, the man he had arrested for tearing people's throats. It was him alright, the same bulky human with the same shaved head and the same bad dental hygiene. The Hook may have been without his eponymous weapon, but he still had his strength, kicking Marv right between the legs and sending him to the cold, metal ground once more.

As Hook laughed, Marv suddenly noticed the giant television screen above him. In seconds, the static made way for a grinning clown. A clown wearing yellow glasses. A clown with facial scars emphasised by his poorly-applied lipstick and white greasepaint.

'Oh, is this not exciting? The infamous Hook, in a gruelling rematch against the cop that put him away? Tell me, Hook, is your heart not pounding in anticipation? Do you not hunger for the death of this vile law-enforcer?'

Hook looked up, his face wrinkling all the more. 'Who the fuck are you?'

'I'm the Warden.'

'So I'm in jail?'

'You've been in a jail ever since you got out of your mother's womb, bub.' The clown stroked his cheeks, smearing his makeup. 'I'm actually going to set you free. That is, unless Marv surprises us and puts up a fight.'

Marv attempted to lift himself up off of the floor, only for Hook to dive onto him.

'Ooh, look at you go! Well, anyway, I have a new initiative going that is sure to bring a smile to the world's face, but only the winner of this little brawl will have a chance to be a part of it! The only rule is...'

Another robot arm shot out of the curved wall, handing the Hook his most famous weapon at last.

'There are no rules.'

Marv's gun was gone. Marv's taser was gone.

Yet the Hook still had his hook.

The hook dug into Marv's wrists.

Then his neck.

'Bravo!' The Warden applauded. 'You'll make the most excellent employee!'

'What the fuck?' snarled the Hook.

'Language,' said the Warden, wagging his finger. 'The others were a lot more enthusiastic! Just think of all the weapons I can give you!' He held up a harpoon gun, then rubbed it against his face. 'I'm saving this for a special occasion.'

'Well, kill cops or no, I ain't working for some purple-wearing pretty boy in clown paint!'

'Oh, that's okay. My associate can persuade you.'

Another robot arm burst through the wall, this one actually attached to a robot. A large white robot that looked like a giant playing card, with a little green smile. Another arm sprung from its back, and both of its claws restrained the Hook.

'Now come on, let's see a nice big smile!'

Two more arms sprung from the robot's 'neck', both with tiny little hooks on the other end. The hooks dug into the Hook's mouth, forcing the corners to turn upwards.

'Now that's better.'

* * *

Wanting a shark for a pet. That's like wishing to be a princess or asking for a giant robot for Christmas; a desire even the youngest kid would know they would never see fulfilled. And Kat had heard that people needed to set impossible goals for themselves to keep on living.

Kat had known kids who wanted to go on adventures with the characters from _Transformers _and _My Little Pony_, but those kids never really thought over what those adventures would be like. They never thought what it would be like to have their lives threatened. Kat had never thought what a pet shark would be like when she first adopted Kenny. She never thought she would be cycling down to a squalid city late at night.

And what would she do if she found Kenny? She couldn't keep him back at her place, not when the police would likely to search again. Maybe she would just try to talk him back into going into the ocean. She'd visit him from time to time.

Though she had never been to Gotton City, Kat had heard plenty about it, and knew the distance from her home. With the policeman who had been carried away still on her mind, she had avoided looking for the city on Google Maps and had left the house wearing a face-concealing coat.

_That's the problem with kids nowadays,_ echoed a voice in her head, _They don't think._

She was going to Gotton City alone.

The streets were rather empty, which made Kat pedal on faster, as she had expected more people to be out and about telling her that a little girl shouldn't be out so late. There were paedophiles and rapists and criminals out and about and she had to watch her back, even if she was after her best friend. Yet aside from the occasional car, Kat cycled through what was basically a ghost town.

The first sign of life she encountered was a pigeon.

A pigeon sat there in the middle of the street as if it were a lazy housecat. Kat had thought it would fly away as soon as she approached it, but it stayed perfectly still, so Kat swerved around it, continuing on her journey.

Then she saw another pigeon. And another.

Then a crow.

And a raven.

Hitting the brakes, Kat gasped as she found herself surrounded by birds of almost all species. "Normal" birds they were, non-anthropomorphic and without hands. Though Kat was sure there was no such thing as an anthropomorphic bird.

'Waugh-haugh-haugh!' A hoarse laugh echoed through the sky, and the birds turned towards a shadow in the corner. 'Oh look, an audience.' While the figure's laugh sounded harsh and masculine, it spoke in a feminine voice.

Sure enough, when the figure came into the light, Kat saw it was a girl, no older than seventeen, who was dressed like something from Dickens. A man from Dickens. A tall top hat rested atop her unkempt brown hair, a pair of half-moon spectacles rested on her pointed nose, and she was wrapped in a black fur coat. When she walked up to Kat, she hobbled about a bit, and when she smiled, Kat saw she had the teeth of a – of a shark.

Kat had come to Gotton City alone.

'Waugh-haugh-haugh! You're not supposed to be here, you know.' The girl narrowed her eyes, throwing away a pigeon. 'I have things to do, you know.'

Kat punched her in the face.

Without a thought, Kat leapt off of her bike and slugged the deformed girl between the eyes, making her hobble towards her henchmen. 'How dare you. Do you know who I am?' The girl adjusted her top hat and tugged on the ends of her coat. 'I am the Griffin, mistress of crime!' As she placed a three-fingered hand on her breast to emphasise her words, another bird flew down, with an umbrella in its claws. It passed the umbrella down onto the Griffin, who replied, 'Thanks, Doug.'

Kat trembled, her eyes squinting and her hands balled into fists. 'If you've done anything to hurt K...Batshark.'

'Batshark?'

'Never mind,' snarled Kat, approaching the Griffin.

'Oh, you want a fight, do you?' The Griffin lifted her umbrella, and from the top slid out a knife blade. 'Waugh-haugh-haugh!' Kat couldn't help but cringe about how different her voice when she laughed. 'Don't worry, this won't take a w_h_ile.'

'What?'

'This won't take a w_h_ile.'

'Nobody says while like that.'

'I say it as I want it, bitch!'

Then another figure arrived.

'Hold it!' It could be no other. Kenny the Shark, now dressed in what looked like an old black sail, snatched the lethal umbrella out of the Griffin's hand. 'Okay, lady, now are we gonna play nice and...what?'

He had seen her. Kenny's jaw dropped, his mouth almost engulfing his entire body.

'Kenny, look...'

'Ow!'

The Griffin had just bit Kenny herself, right under his right fin, and the Bat-shark was now hopping about in agony, dropping the umbrella. Seizing the opportunity, the Griffin leapt for her weapon, but before she could grab it, Kat stepped on her hand.

'Waugh! Get her!'

All the birds rose into the air, seemingly forming a gigantic new bird, and then dove towards Kat, pecking her, scratching her, making her stumble about.

'That's who you wanted to meet?' The Griffin said, 'That cowardly salamander? Aw, is he your _friend_? Are you going to take him to your nice, _warm_ home, with your _loving_ mommy and daddy?' She began to grit her teeth, right before she grabbed her umbrella again. 'Oh, imagine your parent's faces when they find out I killed you. Waugh-haugh!'

She fell.

Kenny had sprung up and knocked her unconscious. Their mistress in this state made the birds retreat away from Kat, back up into the air, squawking wildly all the while.

'Kenny, we have to talk.'

In seconds, Kenny wrapped Kat in his cloak, and swiftly took Kat to an alleyway, a place a little more private. 'Like that? The bat taught it to me.'

'The bat?'

'Yeah. The bat. One day I met a bat and he told me I shouldn't wallow in self-pity. He told me I should come here and fight crime.'

'Kenny, no! You have to stop this! I don't want to see you get hurt!'

'Um,' said Kenny, gesturing towards where they ran from, 'Did you see that girl we just faced? And all those birds?'

'Kenny,' said Kat, though it hurt to spoke, 'The police...I held my own there, so maybe the police would have too...I really think you should go back to the ocean.'

'But Kat, I can't! I...' He buried his face in his fins. 'Remember what happened.'

'Kenny, I remember. But...'

'I could have done something, Kat. '

'It wasn't your fault, Kenny!'

Kenny hit her.

"Hit" may have been too strong a word as Kat felt no pain, but she stumbled over, and in a second, Kenny had vanished into thin air.

Another trick by the bat perhaps?

Kat had come to Gotton City alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Now this was how a man spent a Saturday night. At the pub, with some friends, sharing a story and a song, all over the oldies warbling from the jukebox. Elliot sat on a stool, between two members of his little group, tapping his hoof in tune to the beat.

'Next round's on me,' said Elliot, smiling, 'Giselle passed the interview.'

'Oh, did she now?' said Lawrence the gorilla, 'What was the job again?'

Elliot sighed. Why was Lawrence so stupid? Well, not stupid, but a bit absent-minded at times. Did the situation his brethren were in cause him to retreat into his mind for comfort?

'Um, earth to Elliot?'

'Oh. Sales Assistant at the bookstore. Giselle was always a bookworm, I think she'll really enjoy it.'

'And hey,' said Tarquin the giraffe, 'you'll at least be able to support your kids...future kids.'

'Yeah...' During his early days of studying childishness and maturity, Elliot had pondered on having children. Then he would be able to study the growth of the body and mind up front, and if any of the children _stayed_ children mentally, he would try and deduce why and share the information with other parents to prevent more people becoming man-children. When he married Giselle, he realised that that would be a selfish reason for having kids. An _immature_ reason.

'I said, do you think you'll make a good dad?'

'Oh, yes, of course, I've been practicing. I mean, I remember my school doing a trial thing.'

'You really should listen more,' said Tarquin, 'Don't zone out so much.'

'Yeah,' said Lawrence, 'I mean, brr, you look like a zombie.'

A zombie reference. Zombies were in the same vein as pirates and ninjas and all that, childish...oh, right.

'Well, I'd hate to be the kid that grows up with a zombie for a dad,' Elliot said, smiling. Neither of his companions laughed, giving Elliot a little stab in the gut.

'Seriously, Ell,' said Lawrence, 'You'd make a good dad. You're a nice guy.'

'Thanks,' said Elliot right before ordering the drinks. When the three beers were handed round, Elliot lifted his glass and said, 'A toast to Giselle, and a better Gotton for the animal kingdom!' Lawrence and Tarquin clinked their glasses against Elliot's, giving Elliot the same internal glow he gained from a well-delivered speech.

'Hey, who wants to hear about my wife?'And off Lawrence went. He was always a hoot...well, that was because he was interesting. Interesting like the fat bronies and nerds and Trekkies.

An hour passed, and as the beeping on Elliot's wristwatch noted, it was time to go home. Can't disappoint Giselle. If he didn't please her, how could he ever hope to please their children? No, he was a good bo...husband, and he had to make sure to prove it.

The flat wasn't too far from the pub, and the trip got shorter every time Elliot took it. That was just the way with travel, or with time. The years got on by quicker as you got older, so it would only make sense that the minutes would travel faster too. Anyway, back to the flat, back to home sweet home.

The door was unlocked. Angry with himself for a second, Elliot clonked his own head, but then he said out loud, 'I'm sure I did lock it.' Oh well. He was getting older. His mind wasn't what it used to be. Tomorrow was Sunday, so he'd have a chance to relax, and then on Monday, Giselle would start her new job.

The kitchen light was on, illuminating Giselle's carcass propped up against a seat, in front of a table. Her eyes were forced open by wires, and the flesh around her mouth had been torn away to create a facsimile of a smile. In front of her was a note written in crayon, WELCOME HOME.

Elliot instantly lost all control of his body, and slumped down on the table, head in hooves, sobbing. Tears soaked his fur, mucus dripped from his thick black nose, and he even pulled on his ears as if that would eliminate his sorrow.

'Aw, look at the little baby cry!'

Wiping away his tears, Elliot shot up onto his feet. 'You!'

'Yes!'

A large white robot burst from the cupboard door, a bright green grin gracing its computer screen of a face. Elliot cared not what it was, only that it had done what it had done to his wife, and reached out to hit it, strangle it, whatever he could.

He never got the chance. Instead, a mechanical tentacle wrapped around his body, and another wrapped around his head, spraying a gas in his face...

He was in a cage.

A cage in the middle of a funfair, no less. A rotting ferris wheel loomed over him, and he was far too close to the laughing faces of the carousel horses.

'Um, over here.'

Him! That was the voice from his flat! The murderer!

Swiftly turning around, Elliot was greeted with a mountain of broken dolls, each of them seemingly trying to crawl away. At the top of this mountain was a makeshift throne made from a waltzer car, and in that throne was a man donning a noisy purple jacket and matching plaid pants. The perfect complement to his ghostly white face and the crimson dripping from his mouth.

All of Elliot's rage evaporated in a second, and once more, all he could do was fall down and cry.

'Ladles and jellyspoons,' cried the purple-clad one, dancing from his throne. 'May I present he with delusions of grandeur, he who wets his pants on the sight of blood, _tah tah tah_ _taaah_, the Amusing Elk!'

'Y-you...' Elliot rose slowly, holding the bars of his cage. 'You killed my wife.'

'But aren't you glad?' The clown peered into Elliot's cage, allowing the elk to get a good luck at the bloodshot eyes behind the yellow spectacles. 'Now that you're rid of the old ball and chain, you can hang out with me! The Warden!' The Warden threw confetti into the air, as he was joined by four other clowns. Burly men in polka-dot bowties. Muscular men in checkered waistcoats. 'Look, they joined me, and look how happy they are!'

'W-why me?'

From his pocket, the Warden pulled out a key. 'I've heard of your work. When my associate Clownbot saw the posters for your organisation, he couldn't help but investigate. Curious little rascal, isn't he?' The Warden unlocked Elliot's cage, sending two more of his clowns in. 'Oh, you looked so big, telling all your friends why they should get better treatment. Very inspiring. However...' From out of nowhere, the Warden pulled out a file. Elliot's file.

'Where...you...'

'Very fascinating stuff,' the Warden said to Elliot as the latter was escorted out of his cage. 'But there are a few niggles here and there. I mean, you talk about living in a fantasy world as if it's a _bad _thing. Don't you want to escape to one right now?'

Indeed, Elliot had begun to think of his wife, her warm smile, her soothing voice...but it did nothing to quell the bubbling cauldron in his stomach, or the chills he got from being brought towards the ghost train. Elliot had always been freaked out by those things when he was a calf, and that childhood fear had been resurrected by this ghost train's association with the purple-wearing madman.

'Strap him in!'

Elliot was thrown in a car, and both of the clowns made sure he was secured tight. Feeling the seatbelts constrict his stomach, Elliot bowed his head again, biting his lip.

'Aw,' he heard the Warden cry. 'You're not going to close your eyes throughout the ride are you? Where's the fun in that?'

The ride began, and as Elliot's car burst through the doors, he heard the Warden's voice through some speakers. Laughter from the speakers. Warped calliope music, and the Warden's sadistic laughter. Elliot lifted his head to find walls littered with photos – a lot of them of himself. There he was exiting the community centre. There he was at the pub. There he was going home. Though he tried to bury his head in his hooves, he could only look up, as if the Warden himself were sitting next to him, forcing his eyes open.

Elliot passed an array of computer screens, all adorned with the Warden's makeup-smeared face. It was like Elliot trapped between several giant Wardens, each of them laughing at him. Then each screen was filled with his hand, holding an egg-carton puppet with cardboard bat-ears and fangs.

'Hullo, Elliot! I'm Bat-shark! Sorry I couldn't save your wife!'

Now all the screens were filled with a still image of Giselle's corpse, still with that hand-made smile. Though the image didn't move, it was like she was alive again...no, it was like she was possessed. Then it flashed neon colours, with the calliope growing louder. Elliot's eyes began to sting.

He burst through another door, where a gigantic grinning clown head awaited him and the Warden began laughing again. The heads of baby dolls dangled on wires as the laughter made way for screeches and cries. Not the Warden's cries, of course, but those of...that was Giselle's scream just then. The screeches got louder as Elliot passed the rabbit corpses nailed to the walls, and reached their crescendo when he rode under what looked like the gaping mouth of the Warden.

He buried his head in his hooves again, only for the ride to end, and for the Warden to reappear. After undoing Elliot's binds, the Warden grabbed Elliot by the wrist and began to give him a hug.

He then threw Elliot to the ground, right in front of the angry, muscular clowns. All four of the clowns leapt onto Elliot, punching him in the gut, throttling him, stamping on his back, twisting his wrists.

Then Elliot's left antler was broken off.

'Oh my, don't you look precious,' said the Warden, rubbing his chin. 'Now I know what you're going to say...oh, why did you do this, you monster? Why? _Why_? I just wanted you to see the world as I see it, and how you should see it.'

'W...'

'Why again? Uuh.' The Warden slumped his shoulders before continuing. 'Y'know, I was having second thoughts, but then I read you had reported to the police about that "bat-shark". You wanted to be the big man, you wanted to the good boy.' The Warden laughed slightly. 'What did you think that would achieve? The cops in Gotton are brain-dead morons; they couldn't catch a cold! Even if they could, do you think they'd want to catch someone who's doing their job for them? More time for donuts!'

Elliot whimpered.

'Oh, I get it, you were _scared_ of him! You thought the big mean shark was hiding under your bed and was going to gobble you up! Aw, there there.' The Warden touched the right side of Elliot's face, stroking its fur while leaving the left side unkempt. 'Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,' sang the Warden, with Elliot still frozen, 'Bless this bed I lay upon. Four corners of my bed, four angels over my head.' The Warden pinned down Elliot onto the ground, allowing one of the clowns to spit in Elliot's face. 'One to watch, one to pray.' The Warden kneeled closer to Elliot's ear, and whispered the last line of the prayer: '_And two to keep the devil away_.'

The Warden let go of Elliot, but Elliot still didn't move. 'Oh, what a sad specimen you are, Elliot. You try to put forth a good cause, but really, you're nothing but...dare I say it...a man-child! Or should that be buck-calf? Many people call me a man-child, but I don't pretend to be anything else. You, on the other hand, believe you're actually a big boy. Admitting you have a problem is the first step towards recovery...'

Clownbot reappeared, ready to spray Elliot again.

'...and embracing it is the next step.'

The next thing Elliot knew, he was out of the funfair, and in the middle of a pile of dustbin bags. He told himself that it was all a dream. He had a bit too much to drink. Even this alleyway was a dream and any minute he would wake up in his own bed, he would describe the nightmare he had to Giselle – living, breathing Giselle – and she would hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay. That's what mother always did when he had a bad dream.

This wasn't a dream. He smelled the Warden's rancid breath and the funfair's urine-soaked debris. He felt the fists and nails of the Warden's men. And he could smell the rubbish and feel the end of a bottle against his back. He also picked up a smell that he couldn't quite describe with any word other than 'nautical'.

The Bat-Shark.

Of course! The Bat-Shark was a good guy, wasn't he? He would deal with the Warden! Elliot knew where the abandoned funfair was, all he had to do was tell the shark and he would come over and show the Warden who was boss. Or he'd call...

All he did was sob.

The shark made a series of strange noises, as it gave Elliot its hand – or fin.

The Warden's words replayed themselves in Elliot's head, and though Elliot told himself he should take the shark's fin, he just whimpered and tried to whack the shark away. 'G-get away from m-me.'

He had no control over his body. His mind, struggling to rid itself of the Warden's speeches, demanded Elliot take the shark's fin. Elliot's mind begged him to find a phone and call the police. Elliot's mind wanted Elliot to explain everything that happened. All Elliot did was bury his face in his hooves again and stumble from the bin bags, back to his flat.

_The Warden knows you live there_, said an internal voice, but another said, _It's because of that shark Giselle is dead!_

_Call the police!_

_What good would that do? The Warden has a fucking robot!_

_It would be the right thing!_

_The right thing would be to dunk the Warden's head in a toilet until no more bubbles rise!_

_Still, he must be brought in by the book. Killing him would make you..._

_Don't give me that crap!_

Though Elliot still stumbled about in an attempt to find his way home, the shark followed him, still raising his fin.

'Get away from me!' snarled Elliot, before sobbing again. 'M-my wife is _dead _a-and...' He growled. 'It's because of you!'

The shark leaned over.

'No! Don't hurt me!'

The shark came closer.

All of a sudden, Elliot gained a jolt of energy, and ran back to his flat. Still a wreck. Still broken windows. Still bloody. Only difference was that Giselle's corpse was gone.

Was it a sign?

Ah yes, that's what his study showed. In a lot of cases, people matured because of a single striking event. He watched videos on how to spot shoplifters presented by people arrested for shoplifting. People claimed to become Christians because they were helped out of a tight spot in their lives.

This was Elliot's defining moment. One that would change him. The Warden was a Christmas ghost who had just showed him the error of his ways.

Elliot took a look in the mirror. The right side of his face looked fine. Its fur was brushed, the right antler stood firm. On the left side, not only was there an antler missing, but clumps of fur had been torn out and there were scars and scratches under his eye. The result of a group of bullies.

It was almost too perfect. One antler. Half adult, half kid. Man-child. Buck-calf.

From his wardrobe, he pulled out his best suit, and the clown costume he had worn for that Halloween party where he got stinking drunk. It had been cleaned, but he could still smell the vomit. After pulling out a pair of scissors, he took both suits and cut them in half.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was rising, and there Kenny sat on the beach, playing with his bat cape.

Last night he had spied two thugs trying to rob a drug store, smashing the windows, grabbing the booze. Kenny had swooped in, roared and made the two run away so discordantly they dropped their goods. It didn't take Kenny long to catch up to them, before tying them up with a rope he had picked up on his explorations. He had completed the task with a clear stomach, thinking of how pleased the police would be to find these troublemakers stopped for them.

Then there was the Griffin. The Griffin and Kat.

Kat wasn't pleased.

The thought of her smile had kept him going throughout this whole ordeal, and now she wanted him to go back into the sea.

His fault. His fault she lost her parents. His fault he couldn't protect her.

All she asked in terms of punishment was to return to the sea.

He took his cape with him, a reminder not to do something stupid like this again.

He swam faster than he walked, so he swam into the middle of the ocean in seconds, where he encountered a familiar face.

'Well, look who's come crawling back.' A certain hammerhead.

'Give it a rest, Dan. I'm not in the mood.'

'Aw, what's the matter?' Dan asked as he swam besides Kenny. 'Weren't you gonna try and be a big hero to atone for your patheticness?'

Kenny sighed. 'Kat said not to...'

'Now look, Kenny,' Dan rose up, 'I don't normally listen to rock-dwellers, but Kat has a point. That murder was a _sign_, Kenny, a sign that this is where you belong!'

'Dan! How could you say that?'

'I'm a shark, Kenny. I don't care if a couple of rock-dwellers die.'

'Oh,' said Kenny, rubbing his head.

'Aw, and you took your little cape with ya. What is it you said, Kenny? You were gonna make the streets of Gotton safe? You were going to make Kat proud of you?'

Kat.

The murder of Peter and Grace must have made the news.

Kenny must have been in the reports.

What if the Griffin or some other villain saw that he was a shark and then thought 'Hey, wasn't there a shark...'

Kenny's stomach sank. He held the cape close to his chest, snarling at his own foolishness.

'What now, Kenny? Ya got a stomach ache?'

'No, it's just...Kat...'

'What about her?' Dan put his fin around Kenny's shoulder. 'Kenny, I'm trying to help you here. Sharks aren't meant to battle evil or save lives. We have a simple life, and that's the way it should be.'

'Yeah, I guess you're right.'

* * *

Kat spent all day in her bedroom, waiting.

The cop having disappeared when he came to talk with her was sure to arouse suspicion. They had fed him to the shark, the media would say. Kat was a murderer, trying to protect a vigilante shark. And somebody had to have seen her last night. It was only a matter of time before Kenny would kill one of the criminals he was trying to catch.

As far as Kat could remember – she had pretty much forgotten what life was like before Kenny – she had a recurring nightmare that Kenny was being chased by a morass of shadowy figures, and killed. In some nightmares he would be shot down. In others, he would receive a harpoon right through the heart. Every time she had those dreams, she would wake up, run downstairs and look at Kenny, watching TV on the living room couch, just to reassure herself.

She had that nightmare last night.

Any minute now the doorbell would ring, and she would be put on trial or taken to juvenile hall or would be asked where the shark is. Would that robotic tentacle come back?

She didn't read the news. She didn't use her computer. She just spent all of Sunday lying on her bed, thinking of Kenny, his possible fate and her possible fate. She just came down for Sunday dinner, which proceeded in silence.

She couldn't sleep. She couldn't stay.

In the middle of the night, she decided to sneak out again, only she wasn't coming back. She packed her best clothes, the pseudo-Kenny that lay on the shelf, the photo of her old parents...everything. Then she would cycle off somewhere, maybe get a new identity or something.

She never did think these things through.

The old sheet rope trick. First she threw her suitcase to the ground, then she slid down her makeshift rope, then went to the shed outside to collect her bicycle. Then all she had to do was throw open the gate and...

'Hello, Kat.'

Standing there was an anthropomorphic elk, folding his arms. He only had one antler, and half his suit was neat and black, the other half baggy and checkered, both halves poorly sown to the other.

Kat lifted her suitcase, and aimed it in his direction.

'I just want to talk,' said the elk in a more high-pitched voice, 'Don't be like that.' Then his voice became deeper again: 'I know why you wanted to hurt me though. You saw your parents killed. That changed you.'

'Get away right now,' Kat said through gritted teeth.

'Seeing your parents killed has got to mature you,' the elk continued, as he took out a gun. When Kat stumbled over, he continued, 'Well, that kept you quiet. Yes, I bet kids would be quiet if their parents got killed. Children should be seen, not heard. Once I was on a train and these kids were making such a racket, I thought to myself, what can I do to mature them? I could have killed their parents, they would have grown up much faster.'

Kat rose, but the elk seized her by the wrists and brought her closer to his face. She winced.

'I think we should be taking measures to maturate people. For example, all kids shows should be banned. Life isn't sunshine and lollipops, so why not have the kiddies watch _Reservoir Dogs_? Better yet, let's get rid of TV altogether! Three year olds aren't supposed to watch TV, so should nobody else! It rots the brain, everyone should be reading books! Don't you agree?'

Kat bit the elk in the arm. 'Ow!' With the elk's scream, Kat tumbled to the ground. 'Oh no,' said the elk, pulling his ears. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I don't even know what I'm doing...' He collapsed on his knees, as Kat grabbed her suitcase, and perched it on the handlebar of her bike.

'Where do you think you're going?' In a second, the elk was back on his feet and waving his gun again. 'Yeah, that's right, you better stay still. Listen to your elders. Oh god, what am I...you're coming with me.'

Kat didn't move. The gun neared her forehead.

'Parents are too lenient. I should have had better parents, and look at me now.' He waved his left arm. 'I'm a grown deer. I'm trying to get animals more respect, but I'm too _childish_. I'm too much of a_ baby_.'

Kat trembled.

'You're lucky. You're a kid. It's okay for you to be childish, and from what happened, you've grown up faster than other kids. You're less naive. But...' He kept the gun near Kat's head, though his arms moved in erratic ways. 'I...I was naive right into mid...middle age. Come with me...no, no, you can go free.' He lowered the gun, only to put it right back up a second later. 'Yeah, that's right. You're lucky, you know. Most people never experience maturity. They grow into their 30s obsessed with _Star Trek_, still living at home. You'll grow up sensible and logical, and get a nice job, no, no actually, you won't.' Minutes of silence passed. 'Ask why.'

'Why?'

'Because your shark friend is going to come here, and when he does, I'm going to kill you! You see, he saw his loved ones die, yet he's still childish! Pretending to be a superhero! Well, when I k-k-kill you, h-h-he's going to s-see it. Th-then he'll grow up, and I'll grow up too. I'll be so ashamed by my act, I'll turn myself in, and this...' He waved his left arm about again. '...will disappear. Do you know what jail is like? It matures you something powerful...no, I can't, I can't!' For a second, he looked as if he was about to put the gun into his mouth, but he held it at Kat's head again, standing still as a statue. Kat followed suit.

It seemed like hours.

He was just standing there. The stench was the only reminder that he was still living.

One move and he would still blow her brains out.

Tears attempted to escape Kat's eyes, but she forced them back, making her stillness sting all the more.

'Kat!'

He came.

There, standing before her, was Kenny the Shark, cloaked in his wet costume, along with some other rags.

'What happened?'

'Y-you know,' said the elk, 'I read a book when I was a kid about a little boy who wanted a pet shark. Time to put away childish things. No...'

'Look, pal,' said Kenny, though Kat knew the elk wouldn't be able to understand him. 'Just calm down...'

'Stop making those noises!' The elk then dropped his gun and hunched over his feet. 'You did this, _you did this_!'

'I did what?'

'You and the Warden!'

'Wait,' said Kat, suddenly snapped out of her trance, 'Who's the Warden?'

'I didn't say you could speak!' The elk picked up his gun again and pointed it at Kat's head. Kenny knocked him over in a second.

'Don't. Hurt. Kat.'

'Vi-violence is b..that wasn't very...' The elk gibbered, buried his face in his hand and rolled over.

'What's this?' Kenny gestured Kat to look at the back of the elk's neck. A little beeping red light. A little square. Kat pulled it out.

Then the elk grabbed his gun again and shoved it in his mouth. Kenny took it out.

'I'm...sorry,' said the elk, right before Kat hit him with her suitcase, knocking him unconscious.

'Oh, wonderful,' said Kenny, 'who is this Warden?'

'Kenny,' said Kat, wringing her hands, 'I...I...'

Kenny took a look at the suitcase she was holding. 'What were you trying to do?'

'I don't know,' was Kat's reply.

'Kat.'

The two hugged. Kat collapsed on her knees, Kenny collapsed on what substituted for knees and they held each other tightly.

'How touching.'

Looking up, Kenny and Kat saw a huge white block descend towards them. When it hovered half a foot above the ground, the little black screen on it flashed a green smile, then an image of a clown in yellow spectacles. 'Hello there. I'm the Warden, and you two are criminals!'

'What?'

'You're a vigilante, Mr. Shark, and that's very naughty! And I like baby seals too, they are so cute! And you, Kat Cassidy, are but an accessory to the_ cri-em_. You have to be punished by the strictest means necessary.'

The Warden disappeared, and once again, the robot had that bright green grin lighting its face. Three tentacles emerged from its back, and grabbed Kenny, Kat and even the unconscious elk before rocketing into the sky.

'Hey!' Kenny cried, 'I'm afraid of heights!'

Indeed, the robot had lifted the trio high into the air, shaking and rocking them about as it travelled to its destination. Kat felt her Sunday dinner begin to crawl up her gut, but swallowed. Aside from that, her stomach twisted and turned as they began to reach an abandoned funfair.

The Warden reappeared on the robot's screen. 'Look there! My home sweet home, as Elliot over there can attest! Oh, thank you for not telling the cops, by the way. I didn't think you would!'

The robot landed softly, but when Kat got back on her feet, she still stumbled about in a dizzy stupor, before collapsing in front of a tent, the dew of the grass doing little to cleanse her. The smell of whiskey and assorted...'nasties' she said inwardly for lack of a better word, instantly cleared her head and she stood up. Someone approached.

Another clown. Baggy red costume. Ruffle. Red nose.

It was a dog. A certain dog.

The nasty whiskey smell grew stronger as the dog smiled. 'Long time no see.'

'You're...'

'Oh yes, Kat!' There appeared the Warden, a tall man in a purple suit and a matching fedora that would have made him look like something from a noir movie if it weren't for the plaid trousers. 'I paid him to kill your parents. I mean, I just didn't like them! Who likes psychiatrists trying to..._hah_...cure mental illnesses? Mental illnesses are what makes us special!'

'Yep, that's right,' said the dog, his voice as coarse and chilling as Kat remembered it.

'You...' Kat clenched her fists. Kat salivated through exposed teeth. 'You...'

'I? I? Ai-yi-yi?' The Warden placed a finger on his chin. 'Tell you what, Kat. I like kids so I'm going to let you wail on this guy all you want. That'll make mommy and daddy proud, won't it?' Quickly he went back into his tent, but the dog didn't move a muscle. The Warden came out with a shovel, which he handed to Kat. 'Knock yourself out.'

'Yeah, go ahead, Kat,' the dog sneered, before striking pose. 'Give me your best shot!'

The Warden then pranced towards Kenny and Elliot. Still wielding the shovel, Kat turned in his direction. Ignoring the dog for a second, her body forced her to lunge towards the Warden. She would have hit him right in the face, had the robot not seized her wrists.

'Kat, please, the grown-ups are talking!' The Warden dodged a bite from Kenny. 'My, my, aren't we feisty? I don't blame you though. We all know what a bad little boy I've been.' He turned to Elliot, who was just waking up. 'Tell him what I did to your wife, Elliot. Tell him.'

Elliot said nothing.

'Speak up!'

'Hey, stop watching the shark!' Kat turned to the dog once more. 'C'mon, hit me with your little stick!'

Kat backed away. She still held the weapon.

'C'mon, what's the hold-up? Avenge your parents already!'

Kat was just about to make a move of some kind, when she saw the Warden, laughing like a spastic bumpkin, running away from a salivating Kenny.


	7. Chapter 7

The Warden was surprisingly quick for one so skinny, and he was able to disappear into the Hall of Mirrors in minutes. Though giving pause for a few seconds, due to the giant jester head that made up the Hall's entrance, Kenny nonetheless dived in, greeted by a labyrinth of bending colours. Several distorted, warped Kennys, trapped behind glass prisons, but still leering. Still laughing.

Hearing the Warden's laughter, Kenny stumbled in the direction he heard it coming from. When he leaned on a mirror, he saw a newspaper clipping taped onto it. 'SHARK DEMOLISHES COOK-OFF'. Oh yes, that incident. He couldn't help it, those steaks were so tantalising...

'Oh yes, I've heard of you, Mr. Shark,' came the Warden's voice over some speakers, 'I avidly follow the news, you know. Most of it is pretty boring, so when I see something interesting, I take advantage of it.'

Kenny growled, ripping the page from the wall.

'A shark in suburbia, and he hasn't killed anyone? Nobody's been ripped to shreds? Not even an amputation or two? An injustice! So after my associate, my dear Clownbot, did some research on you, I decided to remedy this little problem. I was so disappointed when that guy shot Kat's parents and then you just ran away. I was hoping you'd do more.'

Kenny felt like he was going to foam at the mouth. His mind was filled with images of tearing the Warden to shreds, ripping off his head...Kat, no...

A mirror broke, and out flew a bat. Not just any bat. _The_ bat.

'Look at you, Kenny. All terrified and confused. That's not the way I taught you.'

There was a beeping light on the back of his neck.

'A year after the incident, I decided to revisit your case. It wasn't hard to find you; some people had reported seeing a shark popping up from time to time in the beach closest to Tiburon. You couldn't leave well alone, could you? Don't you remember what you were doing the night you met that bat?'

Ah yes. He was wondering if he should try and find Kat. It wasn't the first time he did that either.

'I could have easily brainwashed you, but I think it's far more fun this way.'

Kenny ran through the halls again, snarling again, breaking mirrors wherever he could. From one flew out a bird. A pigeon.

'You see? Don't you remember that fight with The Griffin? Wasn't it fun? Wasn't it exciting? Not only did you get a chance to be a hero, but that poor, homeless, deformed woman finally had a purpose in life! Can't you imagine it? The Bat-Shark, the hero of Gotton City. Every week an exciting exploit! The media will eat it up! You'll have fans, accolades, bootleg merchandise!'

Kenny still snarled.

'You're angry, aren't you? Of course you are. I'm your arch-nemesis.'

A bullet hit a nearby mirror, heralding the appearance of the Warden.

'And it's time for the ultimate showdown.'

* * *

'Come on, hit me!'

Kat still held the shovel over her head, but continued to tremble. Though her teeth were clenched and her muscles were tense, she couldn't. She couldn't.

Then Elliot appeared, snatched the shovel out of her hands, and whacked the dog himself. 'There.'

'Y-you...' Kat shook her fists again.

'It wasn't...I'll let the cops handle him, but maybe you'd like to kill him...no, you're too mature for that. We need to find the Warden.' He patted his palm with the shovel. 'He killed my wife, so I need to kill him, no I shouldn't but we'll take him to the police and then he'll get what's coming to him. I've heard jail is a good place oh wait what am I saying oh dear.'

Rolling her eyes, Kat set off for Kenny herself, running to the direction she saw the Warden run in. Sure enough, the Warden himself exited the Hall of Mirrors and stopped right in front of Kat. 'Oh, I see that cur has been dealt with. Come on, Kat, it's my fault!' He struck a pose. 'Come on, go ahead! Don't you want to be a hero?'

Kenny rose too, jumping up and pinning the Warden down onto the ground. His fangs were bared.

'Oh, now that's what I like to see! Pure, primal rage! Doesn't it feel good?'

Curling up his fin, Kenny slugged the Warden in the eyes several times, cracking his glasses.

'Oh yes, let it all out!'

'Kenny, no!'

'Oh, don't be such a killjoy, Kat! Kenny's being a hero!'

As soon as the Warden said that, Kenny lifted the Warden by his shoulders, and then threw him down onto the ground, right before kicking him in the face with a fin.

'Kenny, stop!'

'Kat...' Kenny squeezed the Warden's wrist, more saliva dripping from his fangs. 'Go home.'

'Kenny!'

'Just go home!' He threw the Warden to the ground, gnashing his teeth, making inhuman growls. Pressing his fins into the Warden's wrist, he opened his mouth again, only to hear the Warden chuckle maniacally.

'I don't speak shark, but I'm sure I know what you're thinking. I don't deserve to live! I should die! Well, think of it this way: if you kill me, you will have the satisfaction of ridding the world of a terrible threat. If you don't kill me, you'll have a recurring foe! Every hero needs one!'

'Oh shut up!' The Warden didn't understand him, but it had to be said.

BLAM!

The Warden, Kenny and Kat looked askance to see Elliot breathing heavily, holding his gun. Dropping it, he then picked up what seemed to be a harpoon gun. 'You shouldn't have left this lying around, Warden.'

Kat flinched, reminded of that incident with one Captain Ahearn. Her eyes darted from the gun, to the Warden, then back to the gun.

'Well, well,' said the Warden, sneering. 'The Batshark and his intrepid sidekick against their two arch-foes! It'll be a tale this generation will be telling their grandchildren.' He then turned to Kenny. 'Oh, and you should see this other guy I'm prepping up! How good are you at riddles?'

'Shut up!' Elliot screeched, regaining attention. 'You killed my _wife_! You killed this girl's parents! All to piss off that shark?'

'Not piss off, amuse! Entertain!' Hearing this, Kenny lifted the Warden onto his feet, still clinging to his wrist.

'This harpoon?' Elliot took a good look at his weapon. 'Were you planning on using it on "Kenny"?'

'Oh yes! Wouldn't that have been an epic clash? Him vs. Me in an abandoned factory, me using the weapon used so often against his kind.'

Kenny movedd the Warden in the direction of the harpoon, licking saliva from his fangs. 'Here.'

Kat could only stand in silence.

'Now,' said Elliot, aiming, 'Let's do this.'

He shot the harpoon.

'Kenny!'

The blade went right through Kenny's stomach, with blood spurting all over his cape, and onto the Warden's loud clothes. As Kenny fell, Elliot pulled out a knife from his pocket – he probably also got it from that tent, and plunged it right into Kenny's stomach.

'No!' Finally gaining the strength to move, Kat ran to the carcass of her pet, holding his head.

'There,' said Elliot, 'I put him out of his misery. He was a dumb beast and he would have killed people. You shoot a mad dog but maybe there could have been another way...' His grip on the gun loosened, but he didn't drop it.

'Well, way to go, Mr. Big Shot!' said the Warden, regaining his bearings, 'He was my star attraction, he was the _world's_ star attraction! Now who am I going to do epic battle with?'

Elliot shook his fist.

'Oh, that's not a bad idea, really. But maybe another time.' With a quick swipe, smoke burst from the ground. When it cleared, the Warden was gone. Oldest trick in the book.

'Oh...what if...no, I'll be ready. I'll make sure he's brought in by the book, by the book, but I hate him so much...'

Kat wanted to chase after the Warden. She wanted to shoot Elliot with the same harpoon he used on Kenny.

But all she could do was cry.

There lay her pet, her best friend, her brother, killed by a insane clown, and all she could do was cry.

Then came Elliot, the elk who tried to kill her, the elk who shot Kenny. He held her by the hand and then hugged her, rubbing her back, letting her cry.

She had never felt more like a kid.

**THE END**


End file.
